


Four Walls

by Izabelle (storms)



Series: Weight of Living [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt My Son Tony I Fuckin Dare You :), Hydra Kidnapped OC, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Peter Parker is an Avenger, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2018-11-15 01:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11220195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storms/pseuds/Izabelle
Summary: James never wanted to do any harm.The truth was that he had. A lot of it. With HYDRA, without HYDRA, some of it distinctly one or the other and some things a little hazy. He hated all that he had done. He has a chance to prove himself good. He has a chance to right a wrong HYDRA did years ago. He has a chance to be the good guy.And it all starts with her.MAJOR EDITING IN PROGRESS 08/30/18 !





	1. Goner, Meet Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first real fic. Like, ever. So if this isn't up to par with your standards, well, we've all got to start somewhere :)  
> This story is un-beta'd. I'll probably edit it later, but we'll just have to see.
> 
> Title is inspired by Bastille's Four Walls (The Ballad of Perry Smith)

He hadn’t expected any of this.

Steve may have been on this Earth for going-on a hundred years, but even he had to remind himself that seventy of those had been him frozen in the ocean. Seventy years under a thick layer of ice, his new body keeping him alive when, at the time, he didn’t want to be. But he was, and so was his best friend― his _brother_ ― who he had thought was dead back when he planned to be that way himself soon, and they were both in completely different situations that somehow were similar. Super soldier serum, surviving what should’ve been certain death, following orders like the good soldiers they were as they tried to figure out this new life.

The differences were the most painful. Steve thought of them more often, brows furrowing as they ran through his mind. Bucky lived through those seventy years, Bucky didn’t choose to be a test subject, Bucky was turned from a soldier to a weapon, to a killing _machine_ , and he had no say. That was the bottom line in their differences, really― Bucky never had a say through all the years. Steve at least chose the serum. He chose to land that plane in the Arctic. He got to choose what to do with this new life. That was the most painful fact of them all: he got to choose.

Of course, Steve knew all of that now. When he had woken up in what was supposed to be a hospital room in the 40’s, he thought his best friend was dead. He blamed himself; that was one of the only things that was the same throughout the years. That blame extended to other things, such as Peggy and even his own mother, even after all these years, but if Bucky had died, then that blame would still be there. If he hadn’t crashed that plane, it would still be there. If, if, if―

But when that mask had fallen off, metal clattering to the pavement as the Winter Soldier moved to stand, Steve could do nothing more than stand there, frozen in place as an old sound fell from his lips. A sound that had been spoken with a lot of different tones back in the forties: happy, sad, grief-stricken, amusement. But in that moment, it was complete wonder. Awestruckness. Somehow, they had both made it to the twenty-first century. Somehow, they had defied odds and were in front of each other as new people with the same roots that only one of them remembered. Steve wanted to feel hope in that moment, but instead he was so confused, so _angry_ at whoever had done this to his friend. He didn’t get too long to dwell on that before the Soldier was striding towards him, muttering five words as he went in for a strike.

Fast forward to the Triskelion, Bucky pulling him out of the river and leaving him on the shore. He had been so cold, clothes clinging to him as a breeze blew through. When Steve fully awoke, Bucky was nowhere to be found. He was in another hospital bed and, in a way, it was like starting over again. His best friend gone, and it was just him again. But then he heard soft music playing and he turned his head to the side to see Sam Wilson sitting there, head in hand as he dozed off. Steve couldn’t help the small smirk on his face as he laid back into the pillows, an inside joke exchanged between them. In that moment, the blonde realized that he wasn’t alone. But was it bad to admit that his company wasn’t all he wanted it to be? That still sounded horrible― he knew what he meant, so it didn’t matter, anyway.

Steve was out of the hospital quicker than anyone would’ve guessed, most of his bruises and cuts gone. It was back to training and missions, taking down HYDRA with a new sense of urgency. They gained a new member― a brunette with green eyes and an accent that matched her late brother’s. Tony found out that it was the Winter Soldier who killed his parents, and now he hated both of the super soldier’s guts (for the time being, anyway; Natasha told Steve that the genius would get tired eventually). Now the blonde was sitting in his apartment that SHIELD had given him back in the day, though now it was even more bare thanks to the paranoia that it had bugs and such. He couldn’t face Tony right now, not after how pissed he had been when he had kicked the soldier out of his lab after finding out the truth. He wasn’t alone― Sam sat next to him with a bag of popcorn, hissing when it burnt his hands. A movie was playing, had been for a while, but Steve couldn’t pay attention, the weight of the chain of events hanging over him.

He hadn’t expected any of this.

Steve was still spaced out when Sam’s phone went off. He answered it quietly, muttering something before grabbing the remote, switching the TV to the news. The news reporter was wearing too much makeup, their teeth and eyes strikingly white as they talked. There was a flurry of events happening behind him, but it was too much to take in on the same screen. “―breaking in a small town just south of Columbus―” Sam was talking into the phone now, sounding confused before something moved across his face. Steve was paying attention now, brows furrowed as he waited for his friend to hang up. The news broadcast kept playing, oblivious to the exchange. “―firefighters are still unsure of what caused the fire late afternoon, or how it had spread in such wet conditions―”

Sam put down his phone slowly, looking at the TV like he was trying to put the images from the screen directly into his brain. Steve followed his gaze, now seeing how bad the fire was that the reporter was talking about. “―footage from a bystander’s phone, and it took emergency services almost twenty-four hours to find the location. No survivors have been reported, and a total of fifteen bodies have been recovered―” Sam cursed under his breath, running a hand over his face. “Of the few founded, no identification will be possible. Police have no idea why this building was inhabited, as it was marked abandoned almost twenty years ago―” The screen went black and Steve was suddenly staring at his reflection. His blonde hair had grown out and a beard was now in full effect on his face. The dark bags under his eyes made him look away― he looked almost dead.

“ ‘Inhabited’ my wings,” Sam muttered, looking over at the blonde. “That was the base we’d been monitoring for the past six months.” Ah. It rang a faint bell. “All of that work, down the drain,” the man sighed, slouching back in his seat. Steve wouldn’t know about any of that― he had been trying to get himself together before going back to the team. At this rate, however, that was going to take longer than anyone wanted to give him. Sam seemed to realize that blonde didn’t know what he talking about, so he went over the details. Large amounts of energy used, guards everywhere, trucks entering and exiting the area with no records. Those were the main ones, and honestly, that’s all Steve needed to know. Sam shook his head, looking at the dark screen in front of them. “Wonder who got to torch that hell hole,” he thought aloud, grabbing his cup from the side table and taking a long drink.

And maybe that was where the conversation was supposed to end, where it was supposed to drop off naturally. But Steve wasn’t stupid. Sam _wanted_ his input. He wanted to know what the Captain thought of all of this because there was something to be thought about. After a beat, Steve started to shake his head. “Doesn’t make sense,” he said softly. He cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter to repeat himself, louder this time. “A fire that large with the heavy rain last week? Doesn’t add up.”

Sam tried to hide the gleam in his eye by keeping a straight face, shaking his head. “No, it doesn’t,” he agreed. “They can’t seem to find the source, either.” And it was at that point that Steve was beginning to sense a list of red flags about this. Sure, it was a HYDRA base― there were sure to be some things that didn’t sit right.

“That footage of the jet,” Steve said. “Did you guys find out what was dropped?”

“Nope,” Sam said, pursing his lips. It was obvious that it bugged him. “It was cloaked with similar technology that SHIELD had, but the camera caught what the bystander couldn’t.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. He really was out of the loop. What else could he expect from being gone for three months? No one ever talked about the team whenever they visited, save for right now with Sam. Nat brought Chinese whenever she came over and they sat on the couch, watching terribly cheesy movies and making small talk. Clint sometimes came with her, but he was doing his own things in between jobs nowadays. Wanda had come over a handful of times, always saying that Bruce would have loved to make it if he weren’t so stuck in his lab work. Then they’d watch tame action movies and comment on the strategies as it went on. Thor’s been MIA for a while, but no one seemed to know why. And Tony― well, Steve doubts he’ll show his face around here willingly. Sam looked over at him, noticing the look on his face. “You’re always welcome back,” he said. “Tony will have to realize that HYDRA is to blame, not you or your friend.”

Steve inhaled deeply through his nose. “I know,” he exhaled. “But it wouldn’t be fair to the rest of you.”

“It’s not fair that his pain over his parent’s death was turned on you,” Sam argued. “You didn’t tell him to protect your friend. If you had told him, he would’ve killed him. Then what?”

“Then I would be mad at him,” Steve whispered. “Might’ve killed him, too.” And he meant it. After all him and Bucky had been through, if it had been Tony that ended it, then he wouldn’t know what to do. His friend killing his brother, then Steve killing his friend? It would be a big loop of death that he wanted to avoid. “I’ve said sorry for what I did.”

“And that’s all you can do,” Sam said. “But if you come back to the team, then maybe he’ll see that he was in the wrong. That his anger should be directed at the real threat.”

“Or he’ll go on a blind rampage,” he muttered.

Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “We’re not giving up on this that easily, man. We’re not giving up on _you_ that easily.”

He knew they wouldn’t. He knew that the others were understanding of Tony’s grief, but they wanted him to redirect it. With Steve there, then Tony would have to face it. The blonde would serve as a physical reminder that it was time to move on from this and grow from it, not lay in its wake and simply wait for it to go away. It would serve as a reminder for Steve, too― he wasn’t alone in all of this. Being with his team would be good for him. Resolving this would be good for him. Doing _something_ would be good for him. Finally Steve nodded, rolling his lips. “Fine. But I’m shaving first.”

“Nuh uh,” Sam shook his head. “You’re showering, shaving, brushing your hair― the whole nine yards, man.” Steve rolled his eyes, standing and walking to his bedroom. “JARVIS won’t let a homeless man into the Tower!” Sam called after him. Steve shook his head, grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of his drawers before making his was to the bathroom. He set his things by the sink, looking up and catching his eye in the mirror. His hair had gotten long, an awkward length that he didn’t know what to do with. He ran a hand through it, moving closer to the mirror to get a good look at it. It was then that something caught his eye and he looked down by his toothbrush. A pair of scissors was sitting there from when he had a snag in one of his old t-shirts. Steve eyed them for a moment before grabbing them, pulling a section of hair between his fingers and snipping it off without giving himself a chance to think twice.

Five minutes later and a not-too-shabby haircut, Steve was stepping in the shower and rinsing all of the trimmings off his shoulders. He ran a shampoo through it quickly, rubbing his fingers in his scalp a bit harder than necessary before sticking his head back under. He was done in three minutes, stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist. It took him a moment to remember where his razor was, grabbing it out of the drawer along with the can of shaving cream. It was annoying how long it took to get all of the hair off― every few swipes he had to rinse the razor under the sink to get the hair out. Finally he was drying his face off with a towel, running a hand over his face to get any strays. Steve realized just then how rugged he had looked before. He got dressed quickly before running a bit of gel through his hair.

He stepped out of his room and met Sam’s gaze from where he was sitting on the couch. The man let out a low whistle and Steve shook his head. “Alright, alright. That’s what I’m talking about,” Sam clapped his hands together. “Get this man a shield!”

“Alright, alright,” Steve laughed. “Should we go now, or―” There was a knock on his door, three solid _thuds_ against the wood. The two men glanced at each other before Steve was grabbing a knife off the counter, Sam standing slowly and following the blonde to the door. Sure, one of their friends could just come over, but they never did. They called at least ten minutes in advance every time because they got that he didn’t like to be surprised nowadays. Steve looked through the peephole carefully, eye trying to focus through the hallway light that poured in. When it did, his breath caught and the knife clattered to the floor. He undid the deadbolt as fast as he could and flung the door open, almost knocking Sam back in the process.

“About damn time,” the stranger grumbled as he pushed past them both, carrying something large over to the couch. It was covered in a blanket and, judging from the shape, Steve had an idea of what it was. “Ran here as fast as I could—”

“What the hell, Bucky?” Steve finally managed to ask, coming closer to the couch. The man peeled the blanket off what he had been holding, revealing a young girl that was unconscious. Her face was tilted towards the couch, hiding half of it. “Who is this?” he demanded.

“Friend of mine, who happens to be _bleeding—_ ” he gestured to her midriff that was covered in cotton and blood. There was a weird substance mixed in with those, but before the blonde could ask, Bucky was talking. “Compromised bullet about an hour ago. She fell over a little after that, and the bullet’s too deep, and—”

“Alright, Barnes,” Sam spoke up, taking a place next to him. He felt Bucky tense. “I can get her stable so we can get her somewhere else.”

“We can’t take her somewhere else,” Bucky was shaking his head furiously. “They’re looking for us. We barely got away.” Sam shot Steve a look, inclining his head to the room behind them.

The blonde took the hint and reached for Bucky’s arm gently. “Alright, Buck, let’s—”

“It’s James,” he corrected, eyes still on the girl.

Steve blinked in surprise before speaking again. “Alright, _James_ , give me the rundown while Sam patches up your friend.” Bucky-James let Steve guide him by his right arm to the next room, eyes not wanting to leave the girl. Steve looked back for a moment, eyes scanning her. Long brown hair, gray sweatpants, white t-shirt and blood seemingly everywhere. He turned back to _James_ , forcing him to look him in the eye. “Well?” he asked. Steve noticed right then what condition his friend was in. Knotted hair, unkept beard, dirty clothes that were covered in blood. His arm― the metal one― was bent in an odd way. Steve was surprised he could carry anything at all. “What happened?”

Bucky― nope, it was _James_ now― Steve began repeating it in his head like a mantra so he didn’t fall into the hole of repeating the other name― wasn’t even looking at Steve. He was still looking at the girl, watching as Sam grabbed a pair of tweezers. _When did he get the first aid kit?_ “You need to tell me what happened.” The brunette looked at the blonde, and Steve hated what he saw. There was reluctance, pain― there was _fear_ , and that wasn’t something that Buck― the other man wore lightly. Steve took a breath, trying to keep the anger of wanting to hurt whoever did this to his friend at bay. “Please,” he said softly. James glanced at the girl again before casting his eyes to the ground.

“There… was an attack,” he said slowly, each word coming out as if each one mattered greatly. In this situation, Steve guessed they did. “We were headed here― to you― well, I was, but I couldn’t leave her behind―”

“How would you be leaving her behind?” Steve asked. James got that look on his face all over again. “If you don’t tell me now, then it’ll be harder to do it later.”

James looked back to the girl. Sam was just now getting her shirt up to where the wound was, low on her stomach and to the right a bit. Her shirt was still sticking to her body, the blood drying and making it stick. The wound looked bad― there was green ooze coming out of it, the area around it a deep, angry red. She looked terrible. Sam put a hand next to it to steady his hand and she groaned a bit. James took a deep breath and looked back at his friend― his _best_ friend. If he was going to have to tell someone, then it would be him. In fact, James _wanted_ to tell Steve― he just didn’t want _some_ _other people_ to know he was around, or that he had brought someone with him. But it was a little too late for that now, and beggars can’t be choosers. James let out a breath and looked Steve in the eye. “She’s from HYDRA.”

Steve stared at him for a long, hard moment. He then turned his attention to the girl. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen or sixteen― hell, she was Peter’s age! “She’s…” James trailed off. Steve turned his attention back to him. “A friend,” he settled on. Steve felt frustration building up because _yeah, you’ve mentioned that._ “And she took that bullet for me.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. Hell, he didn’t know what to _think_ . Luckily, he didn’t have to do either of those things. Sam dropped the tweezers on the table, the small _thud_ drawing both of the soldier’s attention. “There’s too much swelling,” Sam said. He was taking off his jacket, balling it up and turning back to the girl. He pressed down on the wound and the girl groaned again. “We need to get her to the Tower.”

“And you think that’s a good idea?” James asked.

“I’m saying if you got a better one, I’m all ears. Now,” Sam shifted to the side. “Keep pressure on this. I’ll bring the car around.” James rushed over to take his place. Sam shot Steve a glance before he walked to the door, closing it tightly behind him. Then the super soldiers were alone again, and Steve couldn’t help but watch as James smoothed a hand over the girl’s hair, whispering something as he did so. Who was this girl to him? What was her part in HYDRA? How did they know each other? _James_ was high up the chain there, so what was she?

Steve let out a small sigh, shoving his hands in his pocket. “What’s her name?”

James didn’t say anything for a while, now stroking her hair absentmindedly. Steve opened his mouth to ask again, but he didn’t get the chance. “She doesn’t have one.” And _ding ding ding_ , another red flag popped up. In fact, Steve was waiting for flashing lights at this point to start popping up. “I know,” James said. “I know none of this makes sense, but… I need her safe first.” He turned his head a bit to look Steve in the eye. “Please.”

Steve rolled his lips, giving a curt nod. In the back of his mind, he understood. But he wanted answers, and not just about the girl― where has he been for all these months? What has he been up to? Did it involve this girl, or did he stumble upon her? “Let’s head down,” he proposed. “Sam should be up front by now.”

James slid in the back of the car, holding the girl close to his chest. Steve got in the passenger’s seat and they were off, Sam going as fast as he could in the New York traffic. Luckily it was a Wednesday afternoon, so a couple of runned red lights went unnoticed. Steve kept glancing back to the two of them. The girl had gotten paler from when she had arrived to now. Whatever had compromised that bullet was making her worse. “I called ahead,” Sam said as he took a turn a bit too fast. “Said a friend was injured, nothing more.”

They pulled into the backlot, a team waiting for them by the double doors. Sam swung the car around so James could get out, placing the girl on the gurney. Sam yelled some things at the doctors as he got out of the car and they simply nodded as they headed inside, Sam following them. Steve came around and stood next to James, watching as they took her away. “Now’s your chance,” he said. “If you want to leave, that is.”

James shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’m not leaving her.” He looked at Steve hard. “And I’m done running.” Steve knew he was serious, and the look in James’ eyes confirmed that. James was walking away before he could say anything, going through the open double doors that Sam was standing by. Steve let out a sigh before following him, Sam walking by him when he was close enough.

“Guess I’m still doing this,” Steve tried to joke, though it didn’t come across that way very well. Sam scoffed next to him, bumping his shoulder.

“At least you shaved.” Steve couldn’t help the small chuckle that left him at that. It was the smallest sound, and he hoped Sam had heard it. By the way he was smiling to himself a bit, Steve guessed that he had. They rounded a corner and were met with the sight of James staring through a window. Through that window was the girl on the operating table, a team of doctors surrounding her. Sam put a hand on Steve’s shoulder before walking off, leaving the two alone. Steve stood by James, joining him as he looked at what was happening on the other side of the glass. One of the nurses whispered something in the head doctor’s ear, holding a syringe in her outstretched hand. The doctor simply nodded and the nurse reached over to the girl’s IV and injected it into the bag.

“You’re close,” Steve said. It wasn’t a question, and it was obvious that it wasn’t. James had carried her, ran with her for an _hour_ (or, at least, from his story, that’s what Steve predicted) to get her wounds treated.

James took a deep inhale then, looking at the blonde. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “We are.” He shifted his gaze to the girl. “Can we talk somewhere more… private?” he asked.

Steve led him to a door just down the hall, a small room with white walls and a table in the middle. The soldiers didn’t sit in the two chairs provided, standing a bit awkwardly after Steve had closed the door. James ran his flesh hand through his hair, feeling just how dirty it was. He had been wearing a hat at one point, but he couldn’t recall where he lost it. His gloves were also missing, his metal hand reflecting what little light there was in the room. It’s not like it mattered, anyway― especially not now. He had to remind himself that he was supposed to be doing something, Steve looking at him both expectantly and full of concern. So he took a deep breath. “She’s HYDRA,” he said simply. They knew Steve already knew that, but he didn’t say anything. “Been there for…” he trailed off, taking a shaky inhale. When he exhaled, he looked Steve in the eye, a lot of emotions in his own. “I’ve trained her since she could stand.”

James didn’t know what reaction he was going to get, so when Steve continued to stare at him, he got nervous. His nerves resulted in the following rambling: “She was there before then. I’d seen her around, but didn’t know why. I didn’t ask questions, but when they brought her into the training room one day, I just kind of… assumed what her role was. And―”

“Her role?” Steve finally seemed to manage. His voice was small and it cracked and he felt like his heart was crawling its way up his throat. “You’re… you’re telling me that she’s…” he trailed off again, not wanting to finish that thought. Hell, he didn’t even want to _think_ about that thought. He could feel the blood draining from his face just at the thought.

“She’s been there her whole life, Steve.” And there was that thought out in the open. Steve pulled one of the chairs in the room out a bit harsher than he meant, sitting himself in it heavily. “From what I know, she’s always been there. She was over in Russia until six months ago, then they moved her to Ohio for some reason―”

“Ohio?” Oh, this was getting worse and worse. “You mean she was the… the _package_ that was dropped?” James could only give a curt nod, biting his tongue. He watched Steve run a hand through his hair, ruining the style that it had been in. The blonde looked up at the brunette again, shaking his head. “What about the fire?”

James gave a small shrug with one shoulder. “I don’t know,” he said. “I found her in Pennsylvania at a safe house. She’d been waiting for me.”

“Then why were you over this way when she got shot?” Steve asked.

He took a breath, crossing his arms. He didn’t want to admit this, but he had to be honest with Steve, with himself, really. “I was going to leave her here,” he admitted. “I was going to go fight.”

“By yourself?” He nodded. “Are you going to? Leave, I mean?”

“I can’t now!” James almost laughed. “She just got _shot_ , and she doesn’t know any of you! She’ll wake up and run before you all even knew it.”

“But we’re the good guys,” Steve argued.

“And to her, so was HYDRA.” Steve rolled his lips, trying not to show his frustration. James knew he didn’t _want_ to be frustrated― this was a situation that they hadn’t dealt with before. “I don’t know how she’s gonna react,” he said honestly. “She’s been around the same people for so long. And you guys are gonna want to keep her here, at least until she heals. Which I do too, but…” he shrugged. “I know it’s not my choice.” None of it was, he realized. He wanted to stay here, he wanted _her_ to stay here, but at the end of the day, what was his say in any of it?

Steve realized what he was thinking and shook his head. “It is,” he reassured. “There’s no doubt in my mind that everyone will let you stay with her.”

“ _Almost,_ ” James stressed. “ _Almost_ everyone. And the one that will mind?” James raised a finger up to the ceiling, spinning it in circles. “He owns the place.”

“But he doesn’t own _us_.” James was looking at Steve almost desperately. The blonde knew that he was scared of what Tony could do. He was also sure that the man in front of him would fight tooth and nail if it meant staying with his friend, and that scared him, too. Steve stood up from his chair, putting a hand on James’ flesh shoulder. “We’ll get through this.”

The brunette simply nodded, his heart stuck in his throat. He wanted to tell Steve that he was grateful, that he hated to put him in this position, that he hated being away for so long and ask for so much, but none of that wanted to come out. Of course Steve knew all of this anyway and saved him the trouble of having to try voicing all of those thoughts, shifting his hand from his shoulder to between his shoulder blades. “Now, let’s go check on your friend.”

James let himself be guided out of the room and back towards the observation deck. As they neared it a doctor stepped out from the medical entrance, looking down at the chart in his hand. He looked up as the super soldiers beelined to him, offering them a smile. “Well, Captain, your friend is one lucky girl,” he said once they stopped in front of him. “That bullet packed quite the punch.”

“She’ll be okay?” James asked. The doctor did a once over of him and seemed hesitant to say anything.

“You can tell him,” Steve reassured.

He gave a curt nod after a moment and looked down at his chart. “The bullet was heavily modified. As soon as we removed it, she was began improving at quite the rate.” He flipped the front page over and continued to scan his papers. “No internal bleeding. No major organs hit, thankfully. But she’ll need to be on bed rest for a few weeks.”

“Were you able to identify the poison?” Steve asked.

“Not yet. I sent it down to the lab to get looked at, but it was the strangest thing. It had this—” he tucked his clipboard under his arm so he could gesture with his hands. “Small space in the middle of it that the poison was coming out of, but the weirdest part was that the poison didn’t just spill out of there. It was almost like it was being _pumped_ out of the space.”

Steve glanced at James, but the brunette was lost in his own thoughts, eyes on the doctor but his mind somewhere else. He turned his attention back to the doctor. “And you said she’s already getting better?”

“Very much so,” he confirmed. “Once we finally got her the right aesthesia, it was smooth sailing from there.”

And Steve wished right then that he knew a little more about that kind of thing. Between not knowing what the doc meant by that and the way James’ gaze shifted, he knew something was up. The doctor seemed fine with it, like the blonde _should know_ what he was talking about. However before he could ask, his own phone was buzzing in his pocket. He gave a small nod and a “thank you, doctor” before turning away and pulling out the ringing device, flipping it open without looking at the ID. “Hello?”

“A friend of yours,” the voice on the other side of the line said, way too flat of a tone and contained anger in it.. Steve exhaled, knowing where this was going. “As in, _one_ friend. Y’know, as in the definition of the word ‘a’.”

“Tony―”

“So imagine my surprise when you not only bring the very last person I want to see, but a friend of _his_ ―”

“I’m not explaining this over the phone,” Steve snapped. “Pick the time and place and we’ll discuss things there.”

There was a beat that was a bit too long, and Steve knew that he had surprised Tony with his forwardness. Hell, he was surprised by it himself. But there was too much going on it what felt like not enough time, so if he had to take matters in his own hands, then he would. Tony cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. “Meeting room in five minutes.” The line went dead after that and Steve snapped his phone shut, turning on his heel only to be met with James’ eyes staring right at him.

The brunette was standing stiffly, having overheard everything. Of course, Steve hadn’t walked away or given any hint that he didn’t want his friend to hear. James cleared his throat. “So?” he asked simply.

Steve shrugged. “Now I talk sense to him.”

Like he had been told, the blonde was upstairs with almost a full minute to spare. It looked exactly the same: gray-blue walls and a long table with chairs on either side and one at the back. The sun was coming through the full-length windows, though with the clouds rolling in it wasn’t going to last long. Looking through one of said windows was the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist that Steve had been avoiding all these months. Was avoiding the right word? _Giving space,_ Sam’s voice rang in his head. He liked the sound of that better.

Tony turned around when Steve got close enough, making the blonde stop in his tracks. The genius looked the same― dark hair swept back, dark circles under his dark eyes. Steve wasn’t stupid, though― he could tell how exhausted he was. Tony tried to hide it, but it was obvious in the way he held himself. Or maybe it was just obvious to the blonde. “So,” Tony said, breaking the awkward tension. “Let’s see if I got this straight.” He waved his hand in front of him as he thought of what to say. “You bring the Winter Soldier into my _home,_ and for what reason? Because a _friend_ of his got hurt?” Steve continued to stand there as Tony started pacing. “So, what? I’m supposed to help a _friend_ of the one that killed my parents? I mean, I did help them, but you _expected_ me to. And that’s what I don’t get. Because you and I,” he waved a finger between them. “Aren’t on the best terms, either. So,” he gestured a hand towards the blonde, letting him know that he wanted to know everything he had just said.

Steve took a deep breath, letting it both calm his nerves and give him a moment to think about what he was going to say. He wasn’t going to imply that Tony was the bad guy here― he never wanted that. They just had different views on this situation. So he let out an exhale so long that his lungs began to burn. “B― _James_ came to my apartment this morning with his friend bleeding in his arms. We tried to fix her on our own, but we couldn’t get the bullet― which was compromised by HYDRA― out. So we brought them to the one place where they’d be safe.”

“Safe?” Tony questioned. “That’s bold of you to assume, considering what the Soldier did.”

“Hear me out,” he said, almost pleaded. “HYDRA was after them both. I know you’re angry with him― angry with _me―_ but you wouldn’t let someone die when you could stop it.”

Tony tilted his head to the side. “True,” he admitted. “But I don’t know his friend. I don’t like them being in my tower when I don’t know their intentions. And, since I’m guessing they’re also running from HYDRA, I don’t like an enemy in our base of operations.”

“And I wouldn’t have brought them here if I thought they were that big of a threat,” Steve defended.

“How do you know they’re not?”

Steve had to take another breath because if he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t let it all sink in. He couldn’t lose his nerve, so he took a step forward and looked Tony in the eye. “Because she’s a teenager.” Tony’s pinched up face relaxed a bit as shock went through his system. “And she wasn’t there… willingly.” And it’s such a vague answer he doesn’t know if Tony will let her stay in the first place. Of course, ‘everything’ wasn’t a lot to begin with.

Tony seemed at a loss for a moment before he finally closed his mouth and cleared his throat. “You mean she was a hostage?” he asked, trying to keep his tone even.

“I don’t know,” Steve answered honestly. “James told me that she’s been there— in Russia— for… a while,” he said the last bit slowly.

“A while,” Tony repeated, almost scoffing. “Well, goddammit, Rogers. She’s just a kid _now_. How long have they had her?”

Steve looked down at the floor between them, not wanting to see his face when he told him. He sucked on his teeth slowly before speaking. “Her whole life.” He waited a beat before looking back up at the brunette, his mouth still open from shock and unblinking eyes glued to him. “I didn’t know how bad this was until we got here.”

“How bad―” Tony cut himself off, taking a breath. He was shaking his head, running a hand through his hair as his gaze shifted to the window. “Start from the beginning.”

So that’s what he did. Steve relaid everything the way that James had to him. Her being from HYDRA, being the package from six months ago, her not having a name. The whole time Tony looked out the window, although it was obvious that he was paying attention. As Steve went into more detail, the brunette seemed to get more restless, his face growing paler as time went on. Finally Steve was done and Tony was nodding to himself, hand over his mouth. “So we’ve got a situation on our hands,” he said softly. He looked at Steve, a breath leaving him. “The girl can stay.”

Steve sighed. “Tony―”

“The soldier can stay, too.” The blonde’s eyes widened in surprise, though he tried to hide it. Tony pursed his lips. “As much as I hate it, he’s a familiar face. And that’s what she’ll need for the time being.”

And Steve tried to hide how happy that made him, knowing that Tony was letting his best friend― his _brother_ ― be here. So he gave a nod and a small “thank you” to try to keep everything at bay. Steve turned to walk out, seeing as everything had been discussed. Tony called his name when he was halfway to the door and the blonde turned his head. Tony rolled his lips before taking a deep inhale. “I’m trying,” he admitted softly. “And it’s good to have you back.” Steve looked over his teammate― his _friend_ ― for a beat before giving a small nod and a small smile. He turned and left the room, leaving the genius with his thoughts.

Wanting to give the other two some time, Steve made his way to his room. He didn’t know whether it was surprising or not that everything was where he had left it. His sheets were still in a ball in the corner of the bed, his desk still as clean as ever. The drawing of a monkey he did back in the 40’s was still by the window, the subject of the drawing smiling hauntingly at him. His eyes landed on the green gym bag by his closet, closed and waiting to be opened again. So he changed into a pair of sweatpants and out of his sweater into a t-shirt before grabbing that sad looking bag and heading downstairs.

Steve would never say this out loud (except maybe to _James_ ) but he liked the old gym that him and the brunette had used back in the day. It was still open, albeit worn down with peeled paint and fading pictures of boxers on the walls, but he loved it, nonetheless. It was where Nick Fury had approached him with a mission to retrieve the same object that he had tried to get from Red Skull, a blue cube called the Tesseract. He never got why the name was only limited to its shape when it was so much more, but he didn’t have any better suggestions.

He remembered storming out of the gym he was standing in now, telling Fury over his shoulder that he should’ve left the damn thing in the ocean. Now, from what he hears, the thing was destroyed on Thor’s home planet, and he couldn’t be happier about it. Steve set his bag down on the bench in front of the punching bag, pulling the zipper open and reaching for his tape. He realized that it had never crossed his mind to come back here, even when he had all those months off after Tony kicked him out. Though, he reasoned, this was where him and Bucky― _it had been Bucky at the time_ ― had come to work out. Steve had avoided a lot of things that reminded him of the brunette after he left the last time, like this gym and all of his old relics in his closet. He wrapped his hands leisurely, watching the tape wrap around his knuckles.

The punching bag looked almost as old as the place itself was. Dark red fabric that looked worn down, but Steve knew it wasn’t. Maybe it was to match the run-down aesthetic of the place, but all the ones that he had used in that place were that same color. And considering how many bags he had used since he came out of the ice, that was saying something. He did a quick warm up before finally going in, his fists hitting the bag firmly. It felt good, letting his energy out something. It had been too long since he had done this, and now that he was back, it felt good.

Steve’s mind wandered to the girl and his blood began to boil again. To know that HYDRA had taken someone from a life they never knew made him so angry. He couldn’t help compare it to what they did to James. They had taken him away for the span of a lifetime, but to _be there_ your whole life was something different entirely. To know nothing but HYDRA, to not have any memories to fall back on that weren’t of those mad people and what they do? Steve couldn’t imagine it. James had memories outside of that place, albeit they were fuzzy from being wiped, but they were there nonetheless. When he escaped that place, he had those. The girl had nothing. He threw an especially hard punch at the bag and a low whistle sounded behind him. As Steve stopped and turned to see where it came from, he realized how bad his knuckles hurt and how bad he was sweating. How long had he been there?

He was met with the sight of Natasha leaning against the doorway of the gym, arms crossed against her chest as she regarded the blonde. She looked put together as always, red hair pin straight and simple makeup. She was wearing jeans and a tank top, boots on her feet and an amused look on her face. “You’ve still got it, Cap,” she smirked. “Though I doubt you’d ever lose it.”

A small tugged at his lips as he tried to get his breathing under control. “Was wondering when I’d see you,” he said. If anyone was going to find him first, it would definitely be Nat. He started taking the wrappings off his knuckles; it was time he headed back anyway. “How’re things?”

“Not the same without you here,” she said honestly. “I’d hug you, but you stink,” she wrinkled her nose a bit. Steve couldn’t help but let a small chuckle leave his lips, shaking his head fondly. Natasha’s relaxed expression slowly morphed to a more serious one as the silence between them grew. “I heard about your friend,” she said as Steve threw his wrappings in his bag. “And your friend’s friend.”

“I’m sure everyone has at this point,” he sighed. He zipped his bag up and looked at the red head. “I still can’t get my head around it.”

“I know.” And leave it to Natasha to be one of the few people who wouldn’t show him pity in this situation. He was grateful for that right now because he knew when he got back, that was all he would see. “But we’re all here for you. Tony included.”

He nodded to himself. “I know that,” he said softly. “I just… know it’s hard on him. All of this will be another thing you guys have to worry about,and I’m sure that me not being here hasn’t been easy―”

“We’ve managed,” she cut him off. “But you’re here now, and that’s better than never.” When he didn’t say anything, didn’t look at her, she closed the short distance between them, putting a hand on his shoulder. His eyes went to her hand for a split second before looking at her open eyes. “I’ll talk to her when she wakes up. Y’know, someone that’s not built like a brick shit house.” The corner of Steve’s lip tugged up a bit and hers did the same at the sight. “We’re all glad you’re back.”

And he really hoped that was true. 

Nat seemed to know what he was thinking. She squeezed his arm before letting go, jutting her head towards the door. “I think you’ve left your friend waiting long enough.” And by the way she looked at him, he knew it was meant in a deeper way than it appeared. He grabbed his bag and flung it over his shoulder, following the red head to a black car with tinted windows. They said nothing as she flew through the streets.

_ I missed you, too,  _ he thought to himself as the city passed them.  _ I missed all of you _


	2. Specimen

It was hard to wake up for her. The doctors had to use some heavy anesthesia on her during the surgery, and it felt like lead had been left behind in her veins as she began to stir. Her head hurt, her mouth was dry and there was a dull ache in her stomach. There was a beeping next to her that made her head pound harder, but she couldn’t be bothered to turn her head and see what it was. Just opening her eyes was hard. The super bright lights above her didn’t help, and her injured stomach dropped as she forced them wide open, heart rate picking up.

“Hey, hey,” someone said softly next to her. The light was blocked and she blinked a couple of times in an attempt to focus on the face in front of hers. Familiar blue eyes looked back at her, concern flooding them as a warm hand was placing itself on her shoulder. She took a deep breath and tried to sit up, only to be kept down by said hand. “You’re fine. We’re safe. Don’t get up,” the man babbled in front of her. She stared at him as she settled back stiffly into the mattress. “We’re fine. We’re good,” he reassured. After a moment, she relaxed into the mattress, eyes still on the Soldier in front of her. He let out a breath once she did. “How do you feel?” he asked. “Scale of one to ten, how bad?” She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, though that didn’t do anything. She held her right hand up slowly, three fingers raised. The Soldier nodded and she let them fall to the bed heavily. “Good. That’s good.”

She really wanted to speak, but she didn’t. He looked her in the eye and sighed. “You were shot in Pennsylvania. Do you remember that?” She blinked. “Well, it was bad,” he explained. “Compromised bullet, didn’t hit anything major, though. I had to bring you here, which…” he gestured around with his hand. In her peripheral vision, she could see washed out teal walls and light coming from her right side. The ceiling was white and covered in small black dots, bright lights in two rows on either side of her interrupting them. “Is a friend’s place,” the Soldier settled on. “And we’re staying here. And I know you have a lot of questions,” he said. “But you need your rest.”

She hated that he was right. Her eyes were already starting to close again. Slowly, she lifted her hand and touched her bottom lip with her pointer finger. The Soldier nodded and got up, his footsteps telling her that he left. Her eyes wouldn’t focus on the ceiling and she was trying to stay awake despite what he had said. The Soldier came back with a small cup and a blue straw, holding that to her lips. She took a couple sips before releasing it. He pulled it back and turned to put it on the table next to her. When he turned back, she was already asleep again. He sighed and leaned back in the plastic chair that he had been sitting in for the past three hours.

When she woke again, the room was orange. Or rather, the light coming from the right side was making it orange. It was evening at this point and the Soldier was snoring softly next to her. His head was next to her hand, face towards her but covered by his hair. A strand brushed against her hand as he exhaled. She brought her hand up to her leg and somehow that small motion caused the Soldier to stir. She wasn’t surprised by that― he had always been a light sleeper. He blinked a couple times as he sat up, tired eyes already on her. “Hey,” he grumbled, pushing his hair back with his right hand. “How you feelin’?”

She held up two fingers this time, less effort behind it than last time. “Yeah, I figured,” he said more to himself than her. “The doc’s been trying to come in all afternoon, but I told him you’re no good to answer questions when you’re this tired.”

She looked around the room as he spoke, moving her head on the pillow so she could see everything. She hadn’t noticed the wall across from her had blinds on part of it on the right side, a section of blue wall leading to the left where there was a white door. A TV was playing on the left side quietly, a black and white picture with a woman sitting in a chair with her hair pinned up. She looked back at the Soldier who was looking worriedly at her. “I’ll have to let him in eventually,” he continued. “You took a nasty bullet.”

Wanting to sit up, she started to shuffle forward. The Soldier wanted to object but she gave him a look and he settled back into his seat hesitantly. She forced an alone under her and pushed up, forcing the other one in a similar position. She scooted back and felt a small pain in her stomach that she had felt earlier, though she ignored it as she straightened. Something rugged on her left hand and she looked down to see a needle. “It’s an IV,” the man explained. “To keep you hydrated.” Seeing it as no threat, she looked down at the tube that was sitting on her front. “Makes sure you get air,” he explained again. Her eyes went to him, seeing how tired he was. That wasn’t new for him, though— he looked like he could sleep for seventy years. He met her gaze and let out a sigh. “I know,” he said. “But once the doc explains everything, I’ll fill in the gaps, okay?”

She didn’t get a chance to respond as the door opened, revealing a man with curly brown hair in a white coat. She forced herself to breathe and the Soldier noticed immediately. “He’s not them,” he rushed. “He’s a friend, okay? He’s a friend.” She looked at him again, analyzing his face. He was serious, he was being honest.

She let out a breath and gave a small nod, looking back at the man that was standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Did I interrupt something?” he asked, voice a bit squeak-ish as he fiddled with his clipboard. The Soldier told him he hadn’t. “Well, I need to run a few tests, ask some medical questions.” He looked at her, a careful smile on his face. “Is your friend staying?”

She glanced at the Soldier before looking back and giving a small nod. The doctor introduced himself as Bruce Banner before delving into a list of different things he needed to do. He gave a small explanation of each one as he gathered a couple of things onto a small metal tray. She watched him do so as she listened, not understanding why he was explaining things but a bit grateful that he was. As Bruce— because Dr. Banner was too formal, apparently— shone a bright light in her eyes, James watched her carefully, wanting to step in if she got overwhelmed. He knew Bruce wouldn’t do anything intentionally, but he was worried nonetheless. After checking her breathing with a stethoscope and her blood pressure, the doctor set the tray aside and sat on the opposite side of the girl’s bed by her knees. “Do you have any questions for me?” he asked. She shook her head as the Soldier said “yes, she does”. She gave him a sideways glance that he could feel burning a hole in him as he looked at the doctor. “How bad had it been?”

She looked at the doctor right when he looked at her. He let out a small sigh, shaking his head a bit. “Not good,” he said honestly. “The bullet was… hard to get out,” he settled on. “There was a lot of swelling, but we were able to remove it after we… stretched the opening a bit.” He looked like he regretted saying that last part, but he continued anyway. “So far you’ve shown no side effects of the poison, but we’ll keep you here until there’s no traces of it in your system.” She looked back to the Soldier, who looked at the doctor and said that was all she wanted to know. Bruce gave a small nod, rubbing his hands together. “Before I leave, I need to make sure the wound isn’t infected.”

The Soldier helped lay her back on the pillows, though he didn’t do much. Bruce watched the two of them, curious as to how they knew each other and how they had gotten so close. He watched the man help cover her lower half as he pushed up her hospital gown, making sure she was decent. He let the soldier do that, not wanting to crowd the girl. When he stepped back, Bruce came forward and leaned over a bit. “I have to take off the bandage, which may hurt a little.” She looked expectantly down at the bandage and he went to work, making sure to be extra gentle. The adhesive from the medical tape pulled at her skin a bit, leaving an outline of where it had once been. He was waiting for the would to appear, but it became clear when he finished pulling the bandage off that there simply wasn’t one to show. Where a bullet hole had been not even six hours ago was now a scar that was already in the process of fading. Bruce looked at the area with wide eyes, trying to keep his shock in. He glanced at the soldier who was pleading with his eyes, though what he was trying to say the doctor wasn’t sure. Bruce cleared his throat and straightened, putting the bandage on the metal tray to discard later. “Well, there’s no infection, which is good,” he said almost stupidly because  _ duh, it was clearly healed _ . “I’ll come check in again in the morning, okay?” She looked up at him again and the Soldier was quick to jump in and say thank you. Bruce showed himself out of the room, closing the door behind him. He stood there in the hallway wondering what the hell they were dealing with here.

The Soldier helped settle the girl back onto the pillows. “Get some sleep, okay? Someone will be here to talk to you in the morning.” She gave him a look that said  _ no thanks, dumby  _ and he sighed. “At least try, please?” She rolled her eyes and laid her head back, staring at the ceiling. They both knew she wouldn’t sleep despite the fact that she hadn’t in neither-of-them-knows-how-long. On the other hand, that’s how it’s always been. But she had just gotten shot. She should at least try then, right?

Meanwhile Steve was sitting in the kitchen, cold cup of coffee in front of him as he contemplated whether or not to go see his friend. Bruce had went up there not too long ago and had invited the blonde to come along, but he didn’t want to crowd the girl. He sat at the kitchen island with the mug between his hands as he stared blankly into the distance. His brain kept going over the same details they had since that morning. Some part of him realized that it was only that morning, not even a full eight hours since this had all started. He was tired, drained emotionally and physically but he didn’t want to go to his room. His friend might need him tonight.

It felt like only ten minutes had gone by before Bruce was walking into the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee machine. He had a look on his face that Steve knew all too well. “Everything alright?” the blonde asked, attention now on the doctor.

Bruce slammed his mug on the counter a bit more forceful than necessary, closing the cabinet in front of him the same way. “No,” he said flatly, almost bitterly. “I’m not. I’m… I’m  _ angry,  _ but I’m turning that energy into pure  _ disgust _ ,” he spat, pushing the button the coffee machine. It began to whir and he stared at it, like he was trying to make it go faster that way. “Because there’s a  _ teenager  _ in the medical wing that just… I don’t know!” He shook his head, looking at Steve. “Goddammit, Steve. What the hell did they do to her?”

“You found something.” It wasn’t a question because why would it be? It was something that he had been wondering about since she first came in. What else would they do with her except experiment? Steve waited for Bruce to answer, but the brunette continued clenching his jaw. “Bruce, please. What did you find?”

He shook his head again, a humorless laugh leaving his lips. “It’s what I  _ didn’t _ find, Steve.” The blonde continued looking at him and he sighed. “She came in with a bullet in her. Her entire stomach was swollen to the point that we couldn’t find the bullet at first. And now? There’s only a  _ scar _ . And even that―” He ran a hand through his hair. “Is starting to fade.”

Steve took that in for a moment before speaking. “It takes me overnight to get to a scar―”

“And she did it faster than you,” Bruce finished. “There’s not even a trace of the swelling left. It’s… it’s like it never happened.”

Steve felt more sick to his stomach, which considering that it had been feeling worse and worse with every detail, he thought he was going to vomit. Again. He’d lost count of how many times that had happened. “So you think…?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce said honestly. “I have to run blood tests in the morning, make sure all of that junk is out of her system.”

“So you’ll know then?” The doctor gave a single nod before turning to his freshly brewed cup of coffee. Steve contemplated getting another one, but he knew it wouldn’t do much. He’d burn through the caffeine before it had much effect. “Natasha will talk to her in the morning,” he changed subjects. “We should at least and try to sleep.” They both knew that they weren’t going to get any, but Steve knew that he wanted to be alone for a while. So he said goodnight to the brunette and headed up to his room. He laid straight in his bed, ignoring that he still smelled of sweat from the gym. He couldn’t be bothered to shower. As he stared at ceiling, he realized he had thought the same thing when he was trying to sleep just the previous night. He said a small prayer then that they all would get through this.

====================================

The sun had been up for a while when there was a knock on her door. The Soldier got up from his plastic chair to answer it, rubbing his eyes with his right hand one at a time. He turned the knob and stuck his head between the door and the wall, talking lowly for a moment before opening it wider. Doctor Bruce was standing there, awkward as ever with a metal tray in his hand. He greeted her and she continued to look at him. He was too busy to really notice, anyway.

Movement in the open doorway caught her eye, but when she looked there was nothing there. The doctor was saying something, but she only caught the end of it. “…blood, then I’ll let you rest.”

The Soldier, ever observant, told her that he needed to take some blood. She let the doctor do that, watching the needle go in her arm and the small tube at the end collect the red liquid. He did it gently, taking his time as he removed it and held a ball of cotton to the inner part of her elbow. He picked it up to check the area, only for the small wound to be gone. The cotton ball was thrown on the tray and the doctor left with a curt “I’ll check in later”. As soon as he left, a woman was standing in the doorway. She had shoulder length red hair and greenish eyes, arms by her sides. The Soldier tensed a bit when he realized she was there, and the girl couldn’t help but wonder if they knew each other. He turned to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “She has some questions for you. Just try your best, okay?” She only gave a simple nod, looking back at the red head. The Soldier left swiftly, not looking at the woman in the doorway.

She looked at the girl, shrugging. “Guess I’ll introduce myself then,” she tried to joke, taking a step into the room. “I’m Natasha. You can call me Nat.”  _ Nat  _ didn’t offer a hand or anything. She gestured to the chair that the Soldier had occupied before. “Can I sit?” The girl looked at the chair and back at the red head. She took that as a yes and sat carefully, eyes still on the girl in front of her. A moment of silence passed between the two of them before Natasha spoke. “Do you have a name?” There was a pause before the girl shook her head minutely. “Do you want one?”

And she just stared at the red head like this was some sort of test that she couldn’t fail. After a moment, Natasha opened her mouth to tell her that she didn’t have to, that it was just something that she thought would help make things easier when the girl said something too softly for her to hear. She cleared her throat and said it again, this time a bit louder. “Elizabeth,” she whispered, though it didn’t seem to be meant to be one. Natasha took note of her low voice that was smooth, a bit hesitant.

“Elizabeth,” Natasha repeated. “Your friend told me that you’ve been with the same people for a long time.” She waited for a beat before continuing. “Do you know how long?” The girl― it was Elizabeth now, Natasha reminded herself― shook her head minutely. The red head put her hands in her lap, clasping them together. “Do you remember a time where you weren’t with them?” She shook her head again. Nat got the feeling that her gestures were always small. She sat there for a moment, trying to think of how to phrase her next question. “Do you… know what those… people did?” Natasha knew that they didn’t deserve to be called people, but she had to contain her feelings right now. 

Elizabeth’s— was that really  _ her  _ name now?— gaze went down a bit, staring at  _ Natasha’s _ neck. The Soldier’s words of advice ran through her head, loud and clear from last night. “Try your best to be honest,” he had said. “I know that you don’t have all the answers, but… just try.”

So she looked back up at  _ Natasha _ , a woman with no title and just a name, and did just that. “Don’t know why,” she said.

Natasha tried not to shift in her seat as a sick feeling crept up her throat. “They’re the only ones who can understand their actions,” she tried. “But let’s talk about you.”

A few floors down, James was sitting with Steve in the large sitting area. The brunette didn’t know where to go after Natasha had barged into the girl’s room, so he had walked to the stairwell and sat there. Even the stairs in this place were nice, dark gray and not a spot on them. It made him more aware of whose home he was in, which in turn made him want to leave even more. He wouldn’t, though. Not unless she was with him. Steve had just gotten out of his shower when JARVIS told him where James was, so the blonde told the AI to pass an invitation to the brunette.

Now they were both sitting on opposite sides of the table, facing each other with cold cups of coffee between them. James was trying not to shift too much, to not draw attention to himself. That didn’t faze Steve, as he stared at the other anyway. The blonde couldn’t quite remember why he thought this had been the best idea, but he knew he couldn’t leave his best friend alone while his…  _ friend  _ got interrogated. Steve felt like there was a more appropriate term for the two, considering their circumstances, but maybe he was just being hard on the girl. Either way, he couldn’t think of what else to call her.

“So she never had a name?” Steve asked.

The brunette found it random, but after a moment he shook his head before pausing. “Well, actually, it would depend on what you think is a name.”

“Meaning…?” he drifted off.

“She…” James thought for a moment. “You have Captain America,” he explained. “I have the Winter Soldier. They’re like…”

“Titles,” Steve said slowly.

“Right. She had a title at HYDRA, but if you consider that a name…” he trailed off, shrugging. “Then she had one.”

Steve didn’t. He didn’t one bit. And maybe it had to do with the fact that one thing hadn’t changed in the seventy-something years he had been Captain America: titles were just that. Something to go by. It wasn’t who the person was, and he felt that James would take time to learn that, too. The blonde had a feeling that HYDRA made people their title; made it so that they felt they were only that. “What did they call her?” he asked.

James took a breath, standing up a bit taller in his chair. The metal of his arm was catching some of the dull rays of the sun as it shone through a cloud. “They called her Project T904,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Sometimes just Project.”

“Project?” Steve asked. “What does that mean?”

James shook his head. “To the full extent, I don’t know, but… she…” He started shaking his head again. “She wasn’t the only one.”

Steve wasn’t surprised to hear that. He felt sick knowing that it was true, but the fact that both the Winter Soldier and now Project had HYDRA do something to them left the option open. Of course he knew about the other Winter Soldiers that had been killed in Siberia not even a month before he had left, but this was something different. “Do you know how many there were?”

“Not exactly,” James said. “There’d be one there, and then I’d leave and they’d be gone by the time I got back. Sometimes two more would be there when I got back.”

“Do you have an idea of how many?”

James sat there for a moment, thinking. Steve tried not to hold his breath as he waited. It seemed like an hour before the brunette responded. “Sixteen,” he said. “Probably more.”

Steve didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all. That was too many. Like way,  _ way  _ too many. How could they have not noticed?  _ Someone  _ had to have noticed. “Jesus,” Steve cursed, running a hand over his face. He didn’t use that term lightly, and Bucky knew that. He sat in his shock for a moment before bringing himself back to the situation. “Is there anything we need to know about her?”

James let out a sigh. “A couple of things. Though she probably already told Natasha, and…” he shrugged. “She can explain it better than I can.”

“I was hoping she hadn’t.” The two super soldiers turned to the doorway of the living room, the red head herself standing there. They both stood up as she stepped fully into the room. “For a girl of few words, she sure does tell a story.”

“I’m glad she spoke to you,” James said, relief in his voice. “She’s never been… good with people,” he settled on.

“Well, considering her circumstances, I’d say she’s doing just fine.”

“Did she give you anymore info?” Steve asked.

Natasha let out a sigh. “Not really, though I didn’t go too deep.” James felt grateful that she hadn’t. He might not have been there a lot, but he felt he had been there enough. “I asked if she wanted a name.”

“Did she?” James asked.

“She gave herself one,” Nat explained. “From now on, she’s Elizabeth.” The red head and the blonde glanced to the brunette, who just shrugged. “Everything else is just confirming what we know. Been there for a long time, no actual tie to HYDRA. She’s as good as someone gets in her position.”

Steve didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. He didn’t really want to ask, not when James was clearly worried sick about how she was coping with everything. “Is she up there alone?” he asked instead.

“Sam’s with her. Gave her a psych eval. She had a shower.” She gave a small shrug. “Asked me to come get you guys.”

Steve, like the idiot he thinks he is sometimes, asked “guys?”

Natasha looked at him as a small smirk settled on her lips. “The one and only dynamic duo.” She held up a finger. “Don’t tell Clint I said that.” Before they could say anything, she was walking out of the room. Steve looked at James, who shrugged and simply followed.

Steve could hear the old lectures his mother had given in him when he was younger. To make a good impression, you had to look nice and feel great about yourself. Right now, the blonde didn’t meet any of those two requirements. A memory of the small Steve Rogers looking at his best slacks in the mirror also made him realize that he was a very large, noticeable mess. His hair was still a bit wet and he was wearing a random pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He just had to hope his friendly face was enough.

The elevator ride was short and quiet, no one saying a word even as Natasha led the way onto the floor where the girl―  _ Elizabeth _ ― was at. The walk down the long hall seemed to go on and on, and Steve wondered if it was ever going to end. He was aware of James next to him and how he seemed to want to move faster, sometimes doing so and then having to slow down to not run into the redhead.

When they finally made it, the door was already open. The redhead looked back at Steve over her shoulder. “Try not to stare.” She turned back around before he could ask. Natasha peeked her head in and knocked on the ajar door. She walked in a beat later, James following close behind. Steve hesitantly went in after the two, nodding to Sam as he did so. He wasn’t aware of how small the room actually was until he took a step back and hit the wall. He cleared his throat a bit, trying to hide how awkward he felt. Why couldn’t he pull it together? He felt way too nervous.

“Alright, I’ll leave you guys be,” he heard Natasha say. Steve looked over to her right when she looked at him. “I’m sure there’s a lot to discuss.” She gave him a hand on the shoulder as she walked by, leaving the three men and  _ Elizabeth  _ alone. Steve could feel Sam looking at him, so he looked at the girl only to find that she was already staring at him from the corner of her eye. It wasn’t in a wide-eye kind of way; more like a you-have-my-attention kind of way. He tried for a smile, but it felt weird.

Sam cleared his throat, trying to break the silence in the room. “So, Elizabeth,” he said in an almost quiet way. “We’re gonna ask some questions about your time with HYDRA, okay?” She turned his attention to him. He looked down at his notepad, which already had a bunch of scribblings on it. “Natasha tells me that you’ve been there for as long as you remember. Is that correct?”

She looked at him for a moment before her attention was once again on Steve. Her gaze was shifting from his body to his face as if she were trying to piece them all together. James glanced over at the blonde, then looked to her. “What’s wrong?” he asked in the same quiet tone as Sam. Maybe the blood was rushing in Steve’s ears.  _ Was _ he nervous? He just felt unwanted at this point.

Elizabeth looked at James fully, and that’s when Steve saw it. Her right eye, the one that had been hidden by the angle of her face and her brown hair, had decent sized scars all around it. From where he sat, he only saw the worst of them: puffy, raised red skin that ran where he guessed the bone of her eye socket was. That’s wasn’t the focal point of his surprise. The eye itself had a warm blue iris that was dark yet bright, normal looking like the other but different in that way. He realized that that must have been what Natasha meant by not staring. Elizabeth shook her head as she said to James, “not one of them”.

She looked at Steve again, this time full on. Had she caught him staring? She looked at his body again, though it was two distinct points and not in a sizing-up manner.  James looked over at Steve and after only a couple of seconds seemed to know what she meant. His eyes widened and he looked back at Elizabeth, shaking his head. “No, he’s not. That’s just what he wore today.” Sam, who was watching the exchange quietly, looked at James at the same time Steve did. James let out a breath and looked between the both of them. “The others at the facility wore gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt.”

_ Oh.  _ Steve’s face slackened with surprise, mouth falling open slightly. He realized that she was wearing the same thing. He also realized that she had been wearing the same thing when she had first arrived at his apartment. It wasn’t the exact same shirt and pant, but it was very similar. Natasha probably gave her the clothes. She probably did it on purpose. Elizabeth’s gaze on him broke and went back to Sam. “Yes.”

In the forty five minutes that they had spent with each other, Sam must have learned how to keep up with her choppy thinking. He didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed as he wrote something down. He laid the pen flat on the notepad before looking back up at her. “How far back do you remember?”

There was a beat of silence. “Fighting,” she said.

Sam wrote that down as well. Laid the pen flat on the paper. “You gave yourself a name. Where did you get it from?”

Another beat, this time a tad longer. It caught Sam’s interest, which in turn grabbed Steve’s. “Peer,” she said.

Scribbling. Pen down. “So you didn’t have a name before?”

“No.” Not a beat there.

No scribbling. “And why not?”

She blinked. Steve realized how much of a mess her hair was. It looked wet towards the back, but the front was surrounding her face in a cloud of frizz. “Didn’t need one.”

Scribbling, then more scribbling. Pen dragging to the side in one motion. The pen stayed in his hand. “Is there anything of immediate importance that you need to tell me?”

She looked at him for a beat, then looked at James. Her hands had been folded in her lap, but slowly she unfolded them. She began tapping the inside of her wrist with the pointer finger of the opposite hand. James nodded and turned to Sam. Steve had to lean forward to see the brunette’s face. “She’s hungry,” he said, almost amused. His face turned serious again, like he just remembered something bad.

“I’ll have Dr. Banner make you something,” Sam said. James gave a single nod like that sentence made sense. Steve, however, remembered the last time Bruce cooked. There was still char on the wall behind the stove from the incident. “In the meantime, you should get your rest.” Sam looked at James. “Someone will get you both in an hour.”

_ For what?  _ Steve asked himself. He felt like was missing a few crucial pieces and was out of the loop. James now seemed confused, though he seemed fine with everything else. Sam stood, nodding to Elizabeth. “It was nice to meet you, Elizabeth.” She blinked at him as he turned to leave. Sam put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I could use your help.” He started walking out of the door before the blonde could ask. He gave a nod to the other two as he stood and followed the other man out of the room.

Sam had known Steve Rogers for a few years now, and only in these past few months had he really gotten to see under his soldier façade. He knew the blonde was stuck in his head, and he was silently screaming at everything that was going on. On one hand, Sam was a bit confused.  He’d seen Steve go through harder things than this like it was nothing. He’d seen the guy get shot and fall to the ground, only to get back up the next day like nothing happened. On the other hand, Sam had to remind himself that this wasn’t physical. This was something mental that Steve was going through. And this was hitting Steve harder than many things have in the past.

Sam always tried to do the right thing. In some way, helping others helped him. Maybe it was become it helped connect him with his minister father, or his mother that had died trying to protect him and his siblings. Who knows? He sat Steve down in the single large waiting room in the medical wing, focusing on the situation at hand. The gray chairs were soft underneath them, the cream walls and warm sunshine coming through the windows giving the place a homey feeling. In here, they couldn’t smell the antibacterial cleaners that were used in the wing. “I have a few pages of notes to go through,” Sam said, turning his notepad to Steve.

Steve reached his hand out hesitantly, closing his fingers over the paper like it was a delicate thing. The corner of his mouth twitched as he brought it it closer to him. “Sharing patient’s notes? Thought that was a confidential thing.”

“Who said I gave you the confidential notepad?” Sam joked. Steve shook his head and skimmed over the first page. It was full of Sam’s slanted handwriting, arrows pointed to other sentences and a couple of stars by others. “I told her she didn’t have to tell me anything,” Sam said, the lightheartedness that was in his voice a moment ago gone. “She didn’t understand what I meant by that.”

Steve ran a hand over the paper, smoothing it out as he looked at Sam. “What do you mean?”

“I told her she could tell me whatever she wanted. I also told her that if she didn’t want to, she didn’t have to.” Sam shrugged. “To her, those seem like two very different orders.”

“So this is what she told you?” he asked, glancing down at the paper.

“For the most part.” Steve looked back up at Sam questioningly. “She kept trying to ask me what I wanted to know. I told her that that’s not how it worked.” Steve read the first bullet point on the page.  _ Wanting an order?  _ it said. He read the next one down.  _ Confirmed abilities. _

“She just told you that she had abilities?” Steve asked.

“She did,” he said. “Didn’t know how to describe them, but she wants to show us.”

“Wants to?”

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it. He repeated the action a couple of times before sighing. “I don’t think she… understands them,” he admitted slowly. “If she can show us, then I’m guessing she knows how to use them―”

“But she doesn’t know their effect,” Steve finished. “Or even how they work.”

“Exactly.” Steve looked back down at the notepad. It was a few things James had already told him.  _ Been there since birth. Knows James (duh). There were others.  _ The one on the very bottom with a star next to it was new. It was written a little neater than the rest of the page, like it was written slowly.  _ Mentions of torture. _

He handed it back to Sam as he ran a hand over his face. Sam set the notepad to the side, folding his hands in his lap as he returned his attention to the blonde. Steve let out a breath through his nose, long and hard. “Did she… was she specific?”

Sam shook his head. “No,” he said softly. He watched Steve become more bothered about this, his face growing pale and his hand covering his mouth. Sam knew this was a bad situation, and they were all feeling the weight of it, but Steve’s reaction seemed like there was more to it. After a long moment of pause, Sam spoke. “What’s this about?”

Steve was wise not to play dumb. He shook his head, taking his hand from his mouth and putting it in his lap. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “This is just… a lot.”

Sam rolled his lips slowly, giving him time to think about what he was going to say. He exhaled through his nose and looked back at Steve. “Is it because she knows James?”

And  _ ding ding ding,  _ there went the bells in Steve’s head. The look on his face must have been enough for Sam, but he stayed quiet for the blonde to talk. It took him a few long moments, but Steve began piecing everything together in his head. “If I had found him after I got out of the ice, I would have found her.”

And Sam couldn’t help but shake his head for a moment, taking in what his friend had just said. “You’re blaming yourself for what HYDRA’s done.” Steve looked at him blankly. Sam inhaled through his nose. “Steve, all of this boils down to what HYDRA has done in the past. They took James, they took Elizabeth. They did what they did. And it’s their fault that those things happened to them. Not mine, not yours, not anybody’s but HYDRA.” Steve gave a curt nod, knowing that his words were going to fail him if he tried to use them. Sam picked up his notepad from the side table and put it in his lap. “If you want, you can come down to the gym to see her abilities. You don’t have to―”

“I’ll be there,” he said quietly. Sam gave a small nod and stood. He clapped a hand on the blonde’s shoulder before he left. Steve let out a sigh, running a hand over his face. Sitting alone in the waiting room, he had a lot to think about. He just didn’t know where to start.

====================================

The long hand had gone around the face of the clock once when there was a knock on the door. Elizabeth wasn’t used to knowing how long she had been somewhere. It felt pointless to her. Maybe it was because she wasn’t used to it. Or maybe it really was pointless.

The Soldier hadn’t said much since he came with back with Natasha and the blonde. She didn’t know his name, or if he had a name. He was dressed like one of them, but he wasn’t one of them. He looked like the Soldier― a big build that he had gotten from HYDRA. The white coats talked about the Soldier a lot. He hadn’t always been like that. He had been as long as she knew him.

Natasha was the one behind the knock, smiling kindly at the both of them. Elizabeth felt it was forced, but only a little bit. “Are you ready?” she asked Elizabeth. The project stood from her bed, looking at the redhead for further instruction. Natasha lead the way out of the room and down the hall, the Soldier behind her. They got in an elevator― the same one she had been brought up in on a bed of sorts― and started their descent.

“What happens?” she asked to no one in particular, watching the numbers fall on the small screen. Natasha shifted to look at James. He gave a small nod.

She turned to Elizabeth, whose eyes were still looking up. “James has volunteered to help you.”

“James?” she asked. She didn’t know that name. Natasha and Sam she knew. Bruce, Dr. Banner she knew. How many people were in this place? Had she already met the Soldier’s friend?

Natasha looked over to the soldier in question. He cleared his throat and Elizabeth looked over at him. “That’s me,” he told her. She blinked. “It was my name… before,” he finished lamely.

Elizabeth looked back to the numbers. The number was three less than what they had started with. They were moving down. Natasha glanced to James, who stood there stone faced. One floor later, they were getting off and following the redhead. There was a wall full of windows to the left, sunlight pouring in on the gray-blue floor and walls. Elizabeth kept her eyes forward.

Natasha walked through a set of doors that were open at the end of the hall. Inside was a large room that was empty, save for the group of people in the corner by the door. The walls had mirrors on them, covering every inch of them. The floor was plain wood, a light color that kept the place feeling open. Elizabeth stopped in the doorway, looking at the place.  _ James,  _ the Soldier, stood by her side, watching her. She watched the others in the mirrors.

There was a girl she hadn’t met yet with long brown hair and a small face. Elizabeth met her green eyes in the mirror for a split second before the girl looked away. She seemed sad. Elizabeth didn’t know why. Beside the girl was a dark haired man with tired eyes. He never looked in her direction, but she saw his dark eyes from the side. He seemed… antsy? That was the word, right? His hands wouldn’t stop moving from in front of him, constantly fiddling as if there were something he was working on. Sam, Natasha, the unnamed man, and Bruce, Dr. Banner were also there.

“Their names?” she asked over her shoulder, eyes still on the mirror. They seemed comfortable with each other, though the blonde seemed to be keeping his distance with the new brunette man.

James looked at where she was looking. “The girl’s Wanda, the man’s name is Tony.” From his tone, she knew he didn’t like Tony.

“The blonde?” she asked.

A beat passed before he answered. “Steve.” Not only had he expected her to know somehow, but he liked the blonde. Elizabeth took note of that as she watched the others disperse. They all turned to her and stood there. James moved in front of her ten feet before stopping. “When you’re ready,” he said.

Right. The reason they were there. Her and James had discussed what was going to happen while Sam and the unknown-now-named-Steve left. James seemed surprised that she even wanted to do this, yet he was the one who had spoken highly of these people in the first place. If she was going to be stuck here for who knows how long, she might as well be on good terms with these people. He said it was a good thing that she wanted to trust them like this. She hadn’t brought up trust when she spoke. Elizabeth looked up at one of the lights on the ceiling. They weren’t the long, tube-like ones at the facility. They were round, flat on the bottom and warmer looking. She held her hand out in front of her.

“She breaks it, you buy it,” Sam joked to Steve. The blonde huffed a breath.

Nothing happened for a moment as she continued to stand there. Some gazes fell to James, who didn’t seem fazed. Elizabeth took a breath and let a familiar sensation come over her. She exhaled and watched as the light from the bulb began to spiral down towards her in a sheer ribbon of yellow. The others held their breath as this happened, watching it unfold. Elizabeth watched as it began spiraling around her, the empty space around her darker than what it had been a moment ago. The energy made its way around her before moving to her palm, spinning itself into an orb. It dazzled like Christmas lights as it shifted, never stopping.

“Incredible,” Bruce said quietly, watching in awe as Elizabeth rotated her hand. The energy followed the movement. She looked back up to the light and lifted her hand abruptly, the light leaving her palm and going back to the bulb. It went back like nothing had happened.

After a moment of silence, the brunette man names Tony cleared his throat. “Is that all?” he asked. “Moving lights? ‘Cause I heard there was more―”

To Elizabeth’s left, a mirror shattered completely. Small pieces fell to the floor as Elizabeth looked at her now broken reflection. The mirror began to shake slowly, more pieces falling off as the shaking became more and more violent. All of the pieces eventually fell off the wall, a pile of broken glass now laying on the floor beneath it. Elizabeth looked over at Tony then, giving a nod. “That’s all,” she said.

James walked over to her, clapping a hand on her shoulder. She noticed that he was trying very hard not to look in the brunette man’s direction. He didn’t like this Tony man very much. She noted that. Behind them, someone cleared their throat. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at Sam, who looked like he was trying not to laugh. Judging by Steve’s eyes rolling, it must have been something he had said. “That was good. Thank you, Elizabeth, for showing us that.” She blinked at him in response. Sam turned to Tony, giving him a pat on the back. “Is there something you wanted to say, Tony?”

A sour look came over the genius’ face for a moment before he looked towards the project. “Yes, well, since you’ll be staying a while, I took it upon myself to clean one of the spare rooms for you―”

“You mean  _ hire  _ someone to clean it,” Natasha added next to him.

“― and make it into your room,” he finished, ignoring the redhead. “Taking up space in the medical wing would just be an inconvenience, after all.”

Everyone, save for Natasha and Elizabeth, seemed surprised by this news. The project looked up at James, who gave her a reassuring smile. This was a good thing, it seemed. “That’s very kind of you, Tony,” the girl― Wanda― said in a thick accent. Elizabeth was a bit surprised by it; she had only ever heard one other person with an accent, and it was very different from hers.

“Yes, well, it’ll be more convenient for us all,” he said with a wave of his hand. “She’ll be where we can keep an eye on her, including JARVIS. It’ll be better for everyone.”

“Still,” Wanda said. “Very kind of you.”

Tony grumbled something as he began walking out of the room. The others stayed behind, amused looks on their faces at his attitude. Elizabeth looked to James, who was giving her a squeeze on the shoulder. He was smiling in an odd way, like he was happy but a bit hesitant to be. He was about to say something when Tony’s voice boomed from down the hall. “Well, I don’t have all day!” James, the Soldier gave her an encouraging push and she walked out of the room, everyone’s eyes on her.

Steve looked at James, who was now by his side. “We got you a room, too,” he said. “It’s further down the hall, but―”

“It’s fine,” he said, waving his hand. “I’m just… happy she’s trying to trust you guys.”

Steve nodded. “We are, too,” he admitted. “It’ll take time, but… the fact that she made such a big step so quick is a good sign.”

James could only nod. The others had just finished filing out of the room, the two of them the only ones left. James’ eyes were on the broken mirror on the ground, the empty space where it had been very noticeable against the other ones that were intact. He looked back at Steve. “You’re paying for that, right?”

“Oh, shut up.” They both laughed as Steve led the way out of the room.

Tony was quiet in the elevator, opting to take it instead of going down the two floors on the stairs. He stood by the door as Elizabeth stood behind him, watching the reflection in the door change as they moved. Tony was off the elevator swiftly when the door opened and she followed. There were windows scattered on the left wall that let sunlight in, but it was nothing like the floor they were just on.  They passed four doors before Tony stopped, his hand on the handle. “So, just some simple rules. You are not to leave here without someone with you.That doesn’t include your friend. JARVIS, our helpful AI― say hello, JARVIS―”

“Hello, miss,” a voice said over the speakers. She looked up and blinked.

“― will be monitoring your activity in your bedroom. Not in your bathroom, mind you. We’re not creeps. He will remind you of meals and will call for you when one of us needs you. Any questions?” Elizabeth shook her head, unfazed by his fast talking. “Good. The place is fully stocked with clothes, thanks to my assistant, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask JARVIS.”

He opened the door and extended his arm as a way of invitation. Elizabeth stepped in, taking everything in. The room was a lot bigger than what she was used to. There was a bed on the right, a small table next to the wall and a large piece of furniture by the right wall next to the bed. In front of them, there were two couches and a table in between them, a decent sized space holding them. To the left, there was an open door to a small room that she guessed was the bathroom. There was another table to the left by the door that had a note on it, along with a cup that was dripping with condensation.

“Thank you―” she turned around, only to be met by empty space. Tony had already left her to her own devices. She turned back around to the cup and picked up the note.  _ Here’s your lunch. See you at dinner! -Dr. B.  _ She put it back down and picked up the plastic cup, swirling it around. It smelt good, like something tangy. She downed it in one go, setting it back down on the table. It left her mouth feeling cold.

Elizabeth went over to her bed and sat on it, reveling in how soft it was. She knew what a bed was, but it had been a long time since she actually got to sleep in one. They were usually reserved for sick people at the facility, or for the Soldier when he came back for a mission. She felt like she was going to sink into it. She sat there anyway, looking around her. Elizabeth hoped that this place was good for her. For them. They seemed nice, but the other people seemed that way sometimes, too.

“JARVIS?” she tried, not knowing how an ‘AI’ worked.

“Yes, miss?” a voice asked from everywhere at once. She didn’t know what to say, so she shrugged. “There are clothes in that dresser behind you if you wish to change.”

She gave a small nod, staying where she was. She didn’t ‘wish’ to do anything. So she sat there and waited for someone to come get her. She waited for someone to need her for something, or to be told what to do. The clock on the wall ticked away. She wondered how many times the long hand would go around before she was needed, how many times it would tick before then. She wouldn’t count. That would be pointless. So she let it play in the background, the same note made into a tune.

_ Tick, tick, tick, tick. _


End file.
